Athazagoraphobia
by revolution rae
Summary: We were afraid, too. On the men and women known only as Slytherins.
1. Insomniacs

**an. **Rereading Breathing Firewhiskey, I'm kind of disappointed. My style of writing has definitely changed since I started that. (Of course, I started it roughly a year and a half ago, or something like that.) So this is going to be my new "ANGST-TORTUREDSOULS-SLYTHERINLOVE" piece. Consider it a sequel, or a companion, or something along those lines. Different characterizations, same characters. Cool thanks:)

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><p><strong>Astoria Greengrass<strong>

**Age: Sixteen**

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><p>I remember this one night, not long before things got bad. It was December, and it was so cold, even inside the castle. Or maybe that was me, projecting my thoughts onto the rest of the world. Because we all do that sometimes.<p>

Anyway. It was two or three in the morning. Blaise Zabini and I were up together, quiet. (That's the only time we really get along, me and Blaise. The rest of the time I consider him an arrogant asshole, and he thinks I'm a frigid bitch. But for some reason, when the stars are out and the castle's asleep and I'm writing and he's drawing, we understand each other.)

I was curled up on the fireside couch, shivering, trying to capture with words the way Pansy Parkinson's eyes lit up when she was explaining her theories on Muggle religion. Blaise was sprawled on the floor in front of me, sketching flames surrounding what looked like the beginnings of a person.

We spent a lot of time like that, Blaise and I. (During the day, he never shuts up and I only speak to insult people who irritate me. Not at night.) We were both insomniacs - not to sound pretentious - and enjoyed each other's company. It was better than being alone.

Finally, I gave up on finding my words and shut my journal. I pulled a cigarette out of my pajama pocket and lit it with a flick of my wand. I took a drag and blew out a tendril of smoke, earning myself a harsh glare from Blaise.

"Those will kill you," he said. "Even Healers can't do shit about cancer."

"Yeah, I know," I replied flippantly. "But I don't mind. I'm going to die anyway. May as well do it on my own terms."

He sighed. It was a point he couldn't fairly argue; we all had those thoughts sometimes. I just had them more often than some of the others.

We spent the rest of the night talking quietly about life, death, and You-Know-Who. It was a common theme of conversation in those days. It was, after all, only a year before the Death Eaters took over. Nothing else really mattered; you just had to do your best to get along and hope things turned out for the better.

I don't know why I remember that night so clearly. It was no different from any other time we stayed up together, but for some reason it really stands out as important.

I dunno. I guess everything was important, back then.


	2. Boggart

**Disclaimer: **(since I forgot in the first chapter.) I don't have any rights to Harry Potter or associated goes for the whole story, by the way, so I'm not going to disclaim each chapter. :)

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><p><strong>Blaise, Daphne, Draco, Greg, Pansy, Theo, Vince<strong>

**Ages: ****13, 13, 13, 13, 14, 14, 13**

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><p><strong>Blaise: <strong>I skipped class that day. It was the first class I ever skipped, actually. This girl in Ravenclaw, Ashleigh, she told me what the lesson was. She fancied me, Ashleigh. I went with her for awhile. She was my first shag, you know. At the age of thirteen. Messed up, you know?

But anyway. She told me Lupin was doing boggarts. I couldn't bear the thought of seeing my fear right out there in the open. I don't even know how the boggart would have done it, but I didn't want to find out. It's being alone, by the way. Alone, or replaced, or forgotten. Or, I dunno, I guess basically I'm afraid of being worthless. I told everyone - other than Astoria, that is - that I skipped because the class was a stupid idea. They believed me.

**Daphne: **I begged Lupin to excuse me for the day. I bloody begged that man. And when I was asking, he had this look on his face, this disgusted, superior look. I imagine it's how Snape looks to people like Potter. And I felt so tiny in that moment that I hated him. Before, he'd just been a professor. Poor, ugly, and ex-Gryffindor, yes, but a professor. After that look, I loathed him like I'd never loathed anyone else.

So he didn't excuse me. Told me if I wanted to sit out, I could, but I'd get a zero for the day. I told him I didn't care. Gave a rude hand gesture and told him where he could stick his bloody boggarts. Then I went to the dormitory and got drunk on firewhiskey I stole from the kitchens. Ended up sleeping through the class the next day. So I guess I won in the end.

**Draco: **The others were all panicking about Lupin's boggart lesson, and I find that rather strange. I wasn't frightened at all. In the worst possible scenario, the rest of the year would have evidence that you're afraid of your father, or something.

That's what it turned into for me, by the way - my father, telling me I'd never live up to the Malfoy name. I didn't particularly care. I've dealt with him in real life; I can easily handle a boggart. I wasn't happy, of course, that I was exposed for all the others to see, but it's not like they couldn't have guessed it. Most people's fears are easy to see, if you know what you're looking for.

**Greg: **Didn't really care that we had to do boggarts for Lupin. Already knew the incantation, anyway; had one in our house two years ago. Not really scared of much, anyway. It turned into my little sister, Anne-Marie, when it was my turn. Dead. Know it would've gone on to do Lucas after that, if I hadn't done the spell. Lupin was pretty surprised. Probably expected me to be afraid of love and kindness, or something. Most people see us that way. Get used to it, eventually. Doesn't hurt by the time you're thirteen. Just part of life.

**Pansy: **It wasn't something I wanted to do, but it's not like I could skip class. Blaise, Vince, and Daphne all did, although later Daph said she was just sleeping off a hangover. I wish she wouldn't drink so much. It's not healthy. And Blaise skipped because he thinks we don't know he's afraid of being alone.

I was the first one to go up, which was really kind of unfair, because I'd never done a boggart before and Greg had. I was hoping I could influence it to showing what I wanted it to rather than my actual fear, but it didn't work. I thought of a werewolf - they absolutely terrify me, so I thought it could work - but it didn't turn into one. Instead, it turned into my true fear - a dementor. Which was in and of itself a surprise as well. I'd expected it to turn into Vince, angry, because I know how he gets and it scares me really badly. But I mean, I'm afraid of dementors as well, so I probably should have expected it. I don't know why I didn't.

**Theo: **Merlin, I freaked out when Pansy went up there and it turned into a dementor. I hate those bloody things, with their rattling breath and ugly hands and all that. So I was already pissed off when I went up there to take my turn. I already knew what it would be - me, hurt and dying.

I know. You think it's selfish that my greatest fear is dying. I should be afraid of losing a friend or something, like Greg for his sister. Or of something reasonable, like a dementor. But you don't know shit. I'm the only one I've got in this place, or anywhere for that matter, alright? I spend all my time taking care of myself, so it makes sense that my fear would be dying. My whole life revolves around staying safe. During summer, I have to stay out of the way of my aunt and uncle, who I live with because my parents are in Azkaban. And at school, I've got to be careful to keep that sort of thing quiet. And to avoid gits like Fred and George Weasley.

So don't give me that, and don't call me selfish. I'm all I've got. You don't know what that's like.

**Vince: **I hate giving myself away. I already knew what it would turn into, if I went up there. Pansy, telling me she wouldn't put up with me anymore. Saying she'd go to Snape if I touched her again, even Dumbledore. I've had nightmares about it before. Most girls wouldn't put up with what she puts up with, especially when you consider the fact that we're only mates. She's not my girlfriend, or anything. We aren't like that. People have a hard time understanding us.

But, yeah. I didn't want the rest of the class to see that. They'd turn it into something and use it against us. So I didn't participate. When Lupin waved me up, I shook my head. He was angry about it, but I don't care. I don't need good marks anywhere, Defense least of all. When I get out of this place, I'm not going to need these classes or these idiots. I'll pick up where He left off. The Dark Lord. I'm going to have the world at my feet. She'll have to love me then.


	3. Midnight

**an. **reviews are appreciated, :).

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><p><strong>Theo Nott<br>Age: Sixteen  
>Year: Fifth<strong>

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><p>Midnight. Finally.<p>

I sneak out of the Common Room - If Filch catches me, I'm screwed, despite the fact that I'm technically on holiday - and towards the western towers of Hogwarts. Towards Ravenclaw Tower, where he waits for me.

Anthony Goldstein.

Merlin, what can I say about Anthony? He's the only one in this whole bloody place that can keep me from going ballistic. He's not my boyfriend, because I don't do blokes, but he's, well, as close as anyone will ever get. Tall. Thin. Pale. According to Pansy - she's the only one who knows about us - he's pretty good-looking. I don't know how to tell, though. I've never been able to look at Anthony as, I dunno, a physical person. He's too -

Oh, hell. I'm starting to sound like a ten-year-old girl dreaming about Potter. Not that they do that these days - he's supposedly insane, now.

So, yeah. I make my way quietly through the castle, hoping against hope to avoid Filch or his ugly little cat. And to my great, relief, I arrive safely. I lean against the wall by the entrance to their Common Room and run my hands through my hair quickly so it doesn't look too carefully prepared. I'm starting to tug at my jeans and t-shirt when finally, finally, Anthony enters the hallway.

A smile spreads across his features, mirroring my own grin. If I could feel like this all the time, I wouldn't be the kind of kid who hexes at teachers when I get pissed at them.

"Hey, Theodore," he says softly. My heart pounds. I never get tired of hearing him say my full name. How could I? He's the only one in my life who does. And it sounds right.

"Hey, Anthony," I reply, smirking. I may be in an upheaval on the inside, but as a Slytherin, I'm far too good at masking my thoughts to give that away so early on.

I step away from the wall and towards him. I'm about to suggest we get outside, to the grounds, where we always go - there's a secret passageway not many people know of - when out of nowhere, he gets this look in his eye that says he's going to do something.

And then he suddenly moves into me and he's in my arms and we're kissing, frantically, hardly able to breathe and his lips are crushed against mine, his tongue flicking at my lips and I open them, wanting him inside - we're hot and heavy and this, oh, this is what Pansy must be talking about when she says the word love -

Eventually we pull apart. We say nothing, can only smile at each other. Then, he takes my hand and we walk away together - no one leading, just together - so we can have one night to smile, one night to remember.


	4. Loyalty

**Character: **Bellatrix Lestrange, age 11

**an.** Okay. So, she doesn't quite fit in this series, because she's not in the same generation. But I had this idea & had to write it.

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><p>The tiny girl with dark, curly hair saunters to the center of the Great Hall and places the Sorting Hat on her head. Her lip curls, because it's dirty and disgusting and old, and it used to be worn by a <em>Gryffindor<em>. And she knows about Gryffindors.

She doesn't lose her smirk for an instant, even when it's whispering in her ear. After only a moment, she stands up and takes her time heading to the Slytherin table, sitting down next to a boy she knows already - Lucius Malfoy, one year older than her.

However, the smile is a lie, though no one will ever know it. Because Bellatrix Black was not, in fact, Sorted into Slytherin at first. The Hat looked inside her twisted mind and offered her a choice. _Take __Slytherin, my dear, and you will be unhappy. Should you follow my advice and join the Gryffindors, your loyalty will have a home, and you can make a difference._

She wasn't tempted, because she'd been waiting for years to become a Slytherin. But there were many instances in the following years when she wondered. Could things have been better?


	5. Exhaustion

**an. **i've officially decided that this fic will encompass any and all slytherins, regardless of their generation. mmkay, cool(: (mainly because the black sisters won't leave my muse alone.)

**characters: **bellatrix, andromeda, & narcissa black.  
><strong>ages: <strong>11, 9, 6

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><p>Bella, Andromeda, and Narcissa were huddled together at the top of the grand staircase, straining to hear the furious voices behind the closed bedroom door. Their parents were hissing angrily at each other, and every now and then, the sisters would catch a few words.<p>

"A disgrace upon the..."

"- cold-hearted bitch, you should..."

"- your fault they're so ugly, you know that?"

After an hour of silently listening to the adults hurl harsh words at each other, the youngest spoke. "It would be easier if they just yelled," she said softly, the comment hardly audible.

Andromeda wrapped an arm around the delicate blonde child. "I know, Narcissa," she replied, though without conviction.

"Oh, come on, you two," Bellatrix snapped. "It would be far worse. We're lucky they don't. You haven't seen the kids at school yet, and I have. I know what it's like for them, and it's worse than this."

"You don't need to get mad, Bella," Andromeda whispered. "Just let her hope, alright? She's so little."

Bella looked prepared to answer angrily, but then she sighed. "I know, it's just... I'm sick of them."

"We all are," Narcissa agreed, her high voice too tired to belong to a six-year-old. "We all are."


	6. Sisters

**characters: **daphne & astoria

**ages: **15 & 14

**an. **random sister moment. :)

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><p><em>Tori<em>:

Bloody hell! I know you think you're really grown up and everything, but you aren't. Would you just start sleeping, please? You have the most obvious shadows under your eyes.

_- D_

x

_Daphne:_

There's no need whatsoever to owl me. We sit at the same table and I'm about three seats down from you. I don't appreciate the dramatic effect, or whatever you happen to be trying to achieve. Also, you don't know what you're talking about, so shut it.

_- T_

x

_Tori:_

I do know what I'm talking about, actually. Blaise mentioned to me that he never goes up to his dormitory until at least four, and you're always in the Common Room later. And also, Pansy mentioned the other day she woke up at seven and went down and you were there drawing. Which means you hardly ever sleep. Which isn't really okay. Because first of all, people are going to get the wrong idea if you're up all night. And second of all, you're fourteen and growing and all that other sisterly shit I'm supposed to say. And as for the owling, you know you love it. You're a drama queen, remember?

_- D_

x

_Daphne:_

I know exactly what people are going to think. I just don't care. And you're the drama queen of the family. Remember that time when you were like seven and you fell down and got a bruise and spent the next two years telling everyone you nearly lost your leg and all our parents did was give you a kiss? Mum went bonkers, they sent an investigator from the Ministry and everything.

_- T_

x

_Tori:_

Merlin's pants, could you just stop bringing that up? I was a little kid! You did stupid things as well, how about when we were at Draco's and you chased him around trying to kiss him? And you were only like four and he ended up throwing his dad's old wand and you were walking round without eyebrows for six weeks? Now that was funny.

_- D_

x

_Daphne:_

Okay, I was three. It's normal for children to mimic what they see their older sisters do, and I know for a fact you spent all of Aunt Lucretia's wedding following her husband's nephew round and trying to kiss him as well. So you've no room to talk, sister dear.

_- T_

x

_Tori:_

...Who told you that?

_- D_

x

_Daphne:_

Mum did. She has photographs. She shows everyone.

_- T_

x

_Tori:_

Well, I find that both mortifying and ridiculous. But oh well. At least she doesn't have photos of me in the bath at the age of two. And she does of you, and she never told you, but she showed Draco and Blaise last summer when they were visiting. So there! Anyway, breakfast is about to end, which you probably know, unless you really are daft, so I'm going to run away from this conversation before any more embarrassing moments are put down on paper. See you at lunch!

_- D_


	7. Girl

**character: **tom riddle  
><strong>age: <strong>14  
><strong>sort-of pairing: <strong>tr/oc

**an. **because you never know.  
><strong>an2. <strong>not what i intended to write. also not my favorite thing i've ever written, but since it's three am, i'm posting it anyway.

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><p>He watched her, always. Even when there was no distinguishable reason. He just had to <em>see<em> her. Really, he knew, it was because he wanted to understand her, to be able to define her greatest fear, her flaws. And he wanted that to be easy; he knew it should be. Yet, for some reason, it wasn't.

There were days when she was so overwhelmingly _human_, and when he was able to comprehend that, he wanted nothing more than to make her bleed. (Not, you understand, the messy, obvious bleeding Muggles resorted to. He wanted to her to fall apart from the inside out, burning and burning and burning and burning, until she finally submitted to the agony and could be completely and truly his.) On her human days, her dark hair was tangled, her laugh too loud and jarring, her smile easy and her words kind. He witnessed it, hated it. Craved it, at the same time, inexplicably.

Some days, though, he couldn't find it, no matter how hard he looked. Those days, he told himself he was simply suffering a side effect of puberty, or that spending so much time at the orphanage - an entire summer - was dulling him. Fear would bubble within him at the very idea, and when that happened, he usually hurt someone.

Not just anyone - at first, it was others at the home. But soon, very soon, he began to use her to vent his frustrations. Her favorite trinkets went missing; strange marks appeared upon her; she was often ill.

That summer dragged on and on, for him. Nothing he did could speed it up or make him forget her. She was all he thought about, until September arrived and he could return home.

xxx

(The next summer, arriving at the orphanage, he saw her with a Muggle boy. One who had parents. Both disappeared over two weeks' time.)

Though he was unrepentant, he also never forgot. To the end of his twisted life, Tom Riddle remembered the girl who'd kept him human.


	8. Bitter

**character: **draco malfoy  
><strong>age: <strong>twenty-nine

**an. **spur-of-the-moment.

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><p>Okay, so yeah. I know people think I'm this disgusting, cowardly, useless prick who only cared about winning. At any cost. There's a good number who think I deserve much worse than I got. Maybe they're right - as bad as it was, I'm lucky to have gotten off with only two years. It was because I was underage for the majority of everything. Otherwise I'd've had it far worse.<p>

But that isn't fair, and it isn't true. Do you have any idea what it was like, my life? There's the obvious, of course, of growing up with a heartless father and a faded mother, and the living through a war. But those aren't important. Everyone had those problems, back then. I'm talking about the other stuff.

Living with the Dark Lord breathing down my neck. Being ordered to kill the man I both hated and loved. Lying to Bellatrix Lestrange, my parents, the whole bloody world. Being the known enemy of good and true and right. That's hard. I don't think you know how hard that is.

I don't blame you for not getting it - I never realized how hard it was. Not while I was in the situation. I think it would have killed me, if I'd let myself think about it. Plenty of people have hard lives, but... It's not that I want to sound self-absorbed, but mine's been worse than most.

The point is, though, I won't be sending my son to Hogwarts. Or my daughter, when she's born. I know it's early to be deciding - Scorpius isn't quite four - but I know. If I do, at the age of eleven, he'll be set up for a lifetime of hardship. Regardless of what House he's Sorted into. The Sorting Hat looks in the unformed mind of an eleven-year-old and, without taking into account circumstance or the future, decides what his most prominent quality is. It's a failed system. I was Sorted Slytherin because my family was, and I was ambitious. Potter was Sorted Gryffindor because of a scar.

Look at it objectively. These Houses, they have blurry lines and similar qualities to start with. There's no way to absolutely decide where you belong. I'm exhibit A.

Then again, maybe I'm just a bitter veteran making excuses. It's hard to tell, these days. Hard to tell.


End file.
